


Sophos At Ere

by storieswelove



Category: The Queen's Thief - Megan Whalen Turner
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Sounis is married to Eddis and the Medes are coming and everything is a little bit of a mess, but this AU is as much a political story as it is a shippy one, canon divergence where Sounis doesn’t die in Conspiracy of Kings but Sophos still escapes Hanaktos, look you see the relationship tag you know where this is going, make of that what you will, this fic has it all: affairs; friendship; political intrigue; flirting; cousins; roofs; the attolias
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-18 00:53:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29850102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storieswelove/pseuds/storieswelove
Summary: “Your uncle is camped at the pass, negotiating a surrender with Attolia,” his father said gruffly. Face set, he said, “He is engaged to marry Eddis.”Sophos stood stock still as the information slammed against him, as unable to take a breath as he had been with Gorgias's lead weight against his chest.*Sophos escapes Hanaktos to find the political unrest in Sounis no better than when he'd left — the barons, furious with their king's oath to Attolis, continue their attempts to destabilize him, and the Mede ambassador stokes the flames as his own emperor quietly raises armies against the Little Peninsula.In the midst of this, Sophos is determined to take advantage of his newfound freedom to make a life for himself that he actually wants. He especially wants to forget that he once proposed to his uncle’s new wife as he and Helen carefully avoid each other’s company…until they don’t.
Relationships: Eddis | Helen/Sophos, background Eugenides/Irene - Relationship
Comments: 6
Kudos: 14





	Sophos At Ere

**Author's Note:**

> The title comes from the invocation of Hephestia at the Spring Festival — _Oxe Harbrea Sacrus Vax Dragga Onus Savonus Sophos At Ere_. I think far more often than is normal about how Helen is paralleled with Hephestia in this series, and "Ere" means ruthless love and, well, I think you can figure out the rest.
> 
> This fic is by far my favorite thing I've ever written, and while I wrote it for an audience of one, I hope everyone who likes canon divergences and the drama of Eddisian affairs likes this too.

Winter had barely come to pass when Sophos saw his father riding up the hill to Hanaktos’s megaron. Prompted by a dream of his tutor, he made a decision he prayed he would not regret and trekked up to the main house to join his father. It was there he discovered the baron’s treachery and led his father and their men in their escape from the villa and through the fields, twisting and winding their way until they were safely out of hearing range. Sophos mounted a spare horse and with the full moon and clear skies illuminating their path, rode hard down the King’s Road for Elisa. 

It was not until they found themselves an inn, where the linens were fine and the food was good and Hanaktos would not dare drive his men to attack, that finally Sophos was able to speak to his father. 

“Why were you there?” he asked, weak with exhaustion from the fight and the ride, but unable to rest until he had answers.

“Hanaktos is holding your mother and sisters somewhere—“ 

“—They’re alive?” Sophos asked, eyes wide with shock, feeling a hope he had not felt in months. 

“It would seem so. Hanaktos has not said anything himself, but we are sure the rebels are connected to him. He invited us here tonight and your uncle agreed I could come.” He sighed. “It was a mistake.” He rubbed a hand over his face, and then looked at Sophos again. Shocking Sophos, he hugged him for a third time since their escape. Sophos blinked back tears as his father said, “I am glad to find you alive and well.” 

“I am glad to find you too, and glad to know mother and Ina and Eurydice live.” He had been certain they had burned with the villa. He wondered where his uncle was, that he had not gone to Hanaktos too. “What of the war? Where are the rest of the armies?” 

“Your uncle is camped at the pass, negotiating a surrender with Attolia,” his father said gruffly. Face set, he said, “He is engaged to marry Eddis.” 

Sophos stood stock still as the information slammed against him, as unable to take a breath as he had been with Gorgias's lead weight against his chest. 

His father’s eyes still on him, he said, “I see,” and bowed his head in an ill-concealed attempt to hide whatever emotions were cascading across his face. He cleared his throat. “Excuse me, father. I am going to see about having a bath readied.” 

Later, alone in the room as his father saw to their men, Sophos wiped his eyes and steadied his breath and did his best to soothe his spirit with the news his family was alive and the luxury of a hot bath after so many months with only the shared slavers pump. 

*

The first few months of Sounis and Eddis’s marriage were contentious. The rebel barons, seeing their cause lost when Sounis allied with the neighboring countries, gave up all pretense of a war and did their best to save themselves. Several were executed, including the ostensible leader of the rebellion Comeneus, but it was clear the opposition ran deeper than the king of Sounis could contain, and with no proof against Hanaktos (Sounis’s brother had, indeed, attacked first), Sounis was forced to spare the baron. 

In the meantime the baron Brimedius, seemingly divorced of any connection to Hanaktos, revealed that he had been holding Sounis’s sister-in-law and nieces hostage, but that Carina and the girls had escaped. To everyone’s shock, the women had turned up in Eddis safe and mostly unscathed, and were returned to the Sounisian capital as the family reunited in tearful greetings. 

Despite the cessation of the civil war, Sounis’s barons were as instigating as ever, causing nonstop problems for the king of Sounis while he had to contend not only with his newfound allegiance to a man who had thrice made a fool of him, but also with the the looming threat of the Medes. 

The most recent round of troubles came from the barons Brimedius and Artino, the two of them locked in a fight over who would pay taxation on crops that were grown on Brimedius’s land, but, because of a technicality in centuries old law, harvested by Artino’s people. 

During a court session, the king of Sounis bellowed at both of them. 

“—AND YOU ARE WASTING MY TIME WITH THIS POINTLESS—“ 

The king went silent as Eddis, in the throne beside him, laid a hand on her husband’s. “I am sure,” she said pleasantly, looking down from her throne at the Sounisian barons, “that the two of you can find a solution without involving the crown.” The barons stared, slack jawed, at the queen. Their eyes flicked to the king, his face still red with anger, but he remained silent. They looked back at the queen. “The king will look forward to news of your new agreement before taxes come due.” She smiled at them her magnetic smile. 

The barons nodded wordlessly, bowed quickly at the king and queen, and retreated. 

The queen of Eddis relaxed back into her throne. Beside her, the king of Sounis looked at his wife with barely concealed awe. 

*

“That was impeccably handled, my queen,” the king said to her when the morning session was over. He shook his head slowly, impressed. 

Eddis wished she could be pleased, could take the compliment and move on, but the risk of ignoring what had happened was too great. “They are trying to rile you, Kyrillios.” She had too much practice with her own once-combative barons not to recognize what Brimedius and Artino were doing. Sounis was secure on his throne with the support of Attolis, but his barons divided still posed a huge danger as the Little Peninsula prepared for the imminent threat of the Mede. 

He waved a hand dismissively. “They are fools—“ 

“—They are _playing_ you.” 

“Who are you to tell me about my own barons?” 

“How,” she said, taking another deep breath to steady herself, “do you _think_ I achieved peace in Eddis? Do you think I just smiled my way into it? I do not know why you were so desperate to marry me if you do not care to listen to what I have to say.”

*

Alone in the library, Helen looked out across the city of Sounis, and further out to her mountains. She longed for home, for the cool morning air and the warmth of familiarity from those around her. 

It was not even that Kyrillios was without his charm. Helen could admit that, at least. But he had a violent temper and Helen, who had spent her life around men with violent tempers, might have patience for it as queen, but she had no tolerance for it from her loved ones. He was jealous, verging on paranoid, and he knew well that she did not return the affection he had for her. 

Or, thought he had for her, at any rate. Helen suspected that Kyrillios was coming to realize that he had erred in his chasing her all those years, and that perhaps he should have married Agape as he’d agreed to. But the Medes were coming, and eventually so too would the raining fire from Sacred Mountain, and Eddis could not risk delaying further. They had needed a unified triumvirate, and she had needed a way to clear her city, and a marriage to a man she hated had been the solution to both. 

Helen heard the click of the latch and wiped the tears from her face before turning. 

“Oh, Helen, I’m sorry I—“

And there was Sophos, like the ghost at her shoulder. But she had made her choice. 

The heir — because he was still heir, until she produced one of her own — began to back away apologetically. She shook her head. “Please don’t leave on my account. There is plenty of room for the both of us in here.”

He bit his lip nervously, and Helen did her best to ignore the pang it sent through her. 

“I was just coming to look for a book.”

Helen waved at the shelves in invitation, and he nodded, crossing the room as he began his search. The room was silent but for the ruffle of vellum and zip of book bindings against one another as they were pulled from the shelf. She turned back to the window and looked out. 

“Thinking of home?” Sophos had been quiet for so long that when he spoke Helen startled. 

She turned to him and returned his knowing smile — it looked nearly like a sneer, but there was no unkindness behind it, merely scar tissue — with a sad one of her own. “Yes.” 

He seemed to consider for a minute before walking toward her, a small book in hand. “I thought of home often, when I was on Letnos. And then when I was on Hanaktos it was…entirely different.” 

It was the first time he had mentioned his captivity to her since his return to Sounis. Indeed, they had barely spoken, only pleasantries and passing conversation in groups. That was at least partially by her own design. She knew his uncle’s temper and knew, from the magus, how narrowly Sophos’s life had been spared when she had accepted his proposal two years earlier. It had been more difficult than she had anticipated, to have him so near and not speak to him. Even through the more pressing political problems, and grief at the supposed-loss of a friend, Helen had missed his letters dearly when he’d been away. She had not realized how much she had come to appreciate his friendship until he was gone. Companionship was easy to find as queen; true friendship was much harder. 

“Hanaktos must have been very difficult,” Helen said carefully. “The magus told me some of what you recounted to him.” 

“Oh, it wasn’t all bad. They certainly liked me better than most of the court did.” 

“Sophos,” she chided gently, biting back a grin. 

He did not hide his own grin. “Some of it was awful,” he conceded. “But some genuinely not so bad. But I did think of home often. I am sorry you are away from your mountains,” he added softly. 

“Thank you. I miss them dearly.” 

She turned to look back out the window, expecting Sophos to return to his search. Instead, he said, “Are you all right?” She turned to see him, brow furrowed, looking genuinely concerned. She wondered if he had heard about the fight. It had been a quiet one, but servants always gossiped. 

“Did he...” Sophos hesitated, “...hurt you?” The men in Sophos’s family were known for getting violent when they were angry. 

Helen laughed bitterly. “No, he is not enough a fool for that. But I believe he is finally learning the queen he believed he was marrying was just smoke and mirrors.”

Sophos lifted an arm as if to touch her and she froze, but instead he brought the hand, still holding the book, to the back of his neck. He sighed. “I will leave you to your contemplation,” he said, and smiled carefully at her once more before he left. The latch clicked quietly behind him. 

Helen turned back to the window. She should have been grateful for the privacy, but all she felt was emptiness.

*

Sophos had registered a marked change in the court’s attitude toward him since his return from exile. The magus had of course welcomed Sophos back with open arms, and after a teary hug Sophos had settled back into place as the magus’s apprentice, only this time training in earnest to become the next magus of Sounis — the only career ambition Sophos had ever truly had. Despite his uncle’s continued disdain for him (more than a little of which, he was willing to admit, was jealousy, which baffled him), it seemed Sophos’s help in leading his father’s men out of Hanaktos had changed the courts opinions of the heir of Sounis. While not exactly popular, Sophos was now included in council meetings alongside the magus. He was regularly invited to poetry recitations and lunches by people who used to look down their noses at him, and occasionally he found himself the object of some baronial daughter or niece’s attention on nights of dancing. 

And then there was the middle son of Baron Salik, who had been most unsubtle in his pursuits of something less political of Sophos, too. 

“Well that was fun,” Nikos said, dropping a kiss on Sophos’s bare shoulder as he lay next to the other man in bed. 

Sophos had been staring up at the ceiling lost in thought, but at that turned to his companion and smiled. “It was fun.”

“I’m glad you agreed to join me for some wine.”

“As am I,” Sophos said. 

Nikos was handsome, and brilliant. Just a few years older than Sophos, he was the undersecretary of agriculture and the youngest person in his uncle’s cabinet after demonstrating his exceptional knowledge and understanding of how to farm some of the more difficult lands in Sounis. It had been most welcome in the midst of the war when they had lost any reliable trade with either of their peninsular neighbors. 

Nikos was also open in his interest. When he had asked Sophos to his rooms to share some wine, Sophos, who had been pushing himself to try new things, accepted. They had talked about last year’s plays, which had been a joy — Sophos had yearned for someone else who had seen them when he’d recited the plays to the other slaves — and Nikos had pulled out his lyre and played an original song for Sophos, which had been quite good. Sophos had read some poetry from the book he’d grabbed from the library earlier that day in a bid to ensure he had _something_ to talk about (though it turned out there had been no need — they had found plenty to talk about, and plenty to do other than talk). They had laughed and talked and touched and drank as the sky outside grew darker and attendants lit the torches inside, until finally Nikos had put a hand on Sophos’s knee and kissed him softly. And then, when Sophos kissed him back, Nikos had kissed him much more firmly. Eventually, they’d ended up undressed and surrounded by Nikos’s sage green bed hangings. 

Sophos kissed the man lightly and swung his legs over the side of the bed to stand. 

“Leaving so soon?” Nikos said to Sophos’s back. 

Sophos looked over his shoulder and nodded, then began the search for his trousers. “It is late and I should be sleeping. The magus will flay me if I’m late tomorrow, and my only hope of waking on time is falling asleep before the bat watch of the night is over.” Sophos was a deep sleeper, and nothing would wake him if he were too tired. He grabbed his tunic from where it was bunched against the seat of the couch and began to pull it on. 

“You could sleep here,” Nikos said, waggling his eyebrows at Sophos when his head was clear of the tunic collar. “It is not so far from your study.” 

Sophos shook his head. “No, I’d better not.” Waking up to Nikos would be more pleasant than to the hammering of his attendant on his door, but Sophos was exhausted and the thought of spending his night tossing and turning in someone else’s bed after so many months without anything to call his own was unappealing. He strode over to the bed and kissed Nikos once more. “Thank you again for the invite.”

“Any time you’d like,” Nikos said, sounding as though he meant it. 

Sophos left, passing through the antechamber, doing his best not to make eye contact with anyone as he passed guards patrolling the hallway. He may have returned to Sounis more sure of himself, but he was not prepared to swagger away from a tryst in plain sight. He wound his way through the dark palace. 

He hadn’t wanted to stay in Nikos’s room, but he also couldn’t bring himself to go back to his own. Instead, he wandered through the palace and up several flights of stairs, until he climbed one final flight that opened out into the northern part of the palace, overlooking the sea. The moon was hiding behind the clouds, and but for the few lights in the city, the world was nearly dark. 

He stood there as the breeze blew over him, filling him with the inexplicable joy that came from wind rustling across bare skin. 

He was still standing there, many minutes later, when he heard a voice behind him. 

“It seems that we have the same ideas today.” 

Sophos jumped and turned. Helen was smiling up at him. 

“Hi,” he said, smiling nervously. While he’d been away, he had forgotten just how disarming her smile was. It made his chest ache. “What are you doing up here?” 

“Oh, much the same as you, I suspect.” 

Sophos nodded. The roof walks in the dead of night were one of the few places one could guarantee solitude. “It’s a nice night,” he said. He wondered if he should leave and give her her privacy, but he did not move, rooted in place by his own desperate desire to be near her in whatever way she might allow. He knew they’d been avoiding each other since his return, and their meeting in the library that afternoon had left him off kilter the rest of the day. 

“Mmmm,” she agreed, standing beside him now to look out over the sea too. He turned back to face it. “Being by the sea is lovely. It’s no wonder the magus missed Sounis while he was away.” 

Sophos smirked. He thought of the magus in the freezing mornings of the mountain country. “He does not handle the cold well.” 

“No, he does not,” Helen said, giggling. She turned her head toward him, and he looked down at her. They both smiled. 

“He’s shown me some of the folktales he collected from the Eddisian countryside. I’ve been recopying them for him.” 

“Good thing, his handwriting is abysmal. I can barely read it.” 

Sophos laughed. “I can read it just fine, but I may be the only one. That’s the real reason he apprenticed me again.” She laughed again, and Sophos’s stomach fluttered. He said, “I had never heard most of the myths.” 

“There were even a few I hadn’t heard,” Helen admitted. “Some of the more remote parts of Eddis have been largely isolated for so long that the stories are nearly lost. I am glad he was able to record them.” 

“His life’s dream, collecting the old myths,” he said, feeling particularly fond of his oft-gruff mentor. “Instead he’s had to fret about the Mede.” He wrinkled his nose and thought to himself, _perhaps if, by some miracle, we are able to stop the Mede from invading.._. 

Helen appeared to be thinking the same. She said, “He may yet be able to retire to a home in the valley to finish his projects. We can only pray to our gods and do our best.”

“If you secure that for him,” Sophos said, hand on his heart, “then you will certainly be his favorite person. Not that you aren’t already,” he added. 

“I am hardly his favorite,” Helen said, brushing him off with a wave of her hand. 

Sophos raised his eyebrows. “Helen, my uncle was not the only one pushing for this marriage, as you know full well.” He winced. He had not meant to step into the obvious discomfort from earlier. She waved him off again to continue. “I just meant — the magus is quite fond of you. As you are of him, I know.” 

She smiled generously. “He rarely stands on ceremony with me. I am grateful for that.” 

Sophos understood. “The magus was the first person who ever told me things frankly. Until I was with the other slaves on Hanaktos, he was the only person I had ever heard speak openly of the Eumen Conspiracy.” Sophos realized he had lost some of his fear discussing his uncle’s bloody murder plot too, after hearing the men in the barracks speak of it so openly. But as he realized this, he also realized he was discussing her husband’s slaughter of his own brothers and hastily changed the subject. “How are you finding Sounis? You must miss Eddis.” 

She smiled at him. “I do, but I do not miss being at war. It is a relief,” she admitted. “How are you finding being home?” 

They talked for hours, Helen eventually sliding down the wall to sit on the floor. Sophos, who had spent every pause in the conversation desperately looking for ways to keep her engaged, joined her eagerly, pleased that it might mean she was enjoying their time together, and that she might stay with him longer. 

When they had been sitting on the floor for so long that Sophos was growing stiff (he didn’t dare move, lest Helen take it as prompting to leave), she asked, “What book did you come looking for this afternoon?” 

“Oh it was—“ Sophos reached into his tunic pocket and pulled the small book out, shaking it midair, “—Archilochus.” 

“Do you always carry borrowed books around in your pocket?” she teased. 

Sophos blushed. “No I had dinner…with a friend, and I took it to read to him.” 

She smiled knowingly. “Oh, _you_ had a nice evening.” Sophos’s cheeks burned, but she spared him from finding a response. Changing tack, she said, “Will you read me some?” The clouds had cleared, and the moon provided plenty of light to read by. 

And so Sophos read her the battle at Menara while she tipped her head back against the stone wall, eyes closed as she listened. Sophos snuck glances at her as he recited the bits he had committed to memory, or if he grew desperate, read ahead and watched her as he recited the line. He felt reckless, but sitting this close to her after so long thinking of her and dreaming of her, it was like he was in a trance. He was mesmerized by the furrow of her brow and tilt up of her lips as he read, and he found himself adjusting his tone to chase down her reactions. He had certainly done none of this as he read to Nikos earlier in the evening. 

He read for nearly an hour, until his voice grew hoarse and he knew, without water, he would not be able to continue. 

Closing the book, he said reluctantly, “I am sorry, I think my voice needs a rest.” 

“That was wonderful. Thank you, Sophos.” 

The slow-spreading smile she gave him made his heart seize, and he blushed again. “It was my pleasure.” 

“I’ve missed you,” she said, a little quieter. 

Heart in his throat, Sophos said, “As have I.” 

She held his gaze for a moment, before facing back ahead. They sat in companionable silence, both looking out across the roof walks, until Helen spoke again. 

“Do you still hate hunting?” she asked. “We are going out with a party in a few weeks, and you’re welcome to join.” 

Sophos weighed his answer carefully. “I don’t hate it as much as I used to,” he said. That he was good at it was of no consequence. “But I would enjoy the company, and to get out of the city for a while.” He hadn’t left Sounis since his escape from Hanaktos, and he had not realized how used to open air and sparse populations he’d grown while away. 

She smiled. “Good, come with us. I will be glad for your company.” 

Sophos looked at her and blushed, pleased. 

“I need to go to bed,” she said with a yawn, pushing herself off of the crenelated wall and standing. “I have early appointments and they’ll be intolerable on no sleep.” Sophos followed suit and stood and she turned to look at him. She said, “Thank you for keeping me company.” 

“Of course,” he said, suddenly nervous for no discernible reason. She looked sad now, like she had in the library that afternoon, and this second time he could not stop himself from moving. Against his better judgement, he reached out and hugged her. She let out a surprised “ _oh_ ” but she wrapped her arms around his waist. He released her sooner than he wanted to, but he’d already hugged her for longer than was prudent. As he let go, he said, “I hope tomorrow brings you a little more peace.” 

She smiled up at him one last time. “Good night, Sophos,” she said, and with a wave strode across the roof and down the steps back to the palace, pulling up the hood on her cloak as she went. It was only then he realized that her attendants had not been with her. 

_Things could be worse_ , Sophos thought as he made his way back to his rooms. He may be a cow-eyed fool, but he cared deeply for his friendship with Helen, and having her near was certainly better than never seeing her at all. 

Sophos crawled into his bed in a daze and slept well for the first time since his return to Sounis. 

*

Later that week, the king’s oldest niece spoke to Eddis at breakfast. 

“Helen,” Ina said from across the table, “Selene tells me you are going hunting soon?” 

The queen nodded. “In just a few days. I am glad to be going, I have not hunted in the lowlands, and I hear it is excellent.” 

“When did you learn to hunt?” Ina was envious. Her brother had gotten riding lessons and hunting lessons, been taught to fish and sword fight and had enjoyed none of it. Ina, just a few years younger herself, would have gladly traded places with him, but it was not _appropriate_ , the adults had said. But she was not prepared to give up hope yet. 

“I started going out on hunts when I was seven. The children were allowed to go but we were kept carefully away from any danger.” She smirked. “That didn’t stop us from trying, though. My cousin Temenus and I once snuck away from my mother’s attendants and spooked a deer the adults had been stalking. We were in so much trouble. Do you ride?” the queen asked.

“Some. Well enough, I think.” Ina had snuck in riding lessons as often as she could. Sophos had hated riding, but she loved it. 

“Well, if your father permits, you are welcome to come out on the next hunt with us. He and your brother are coming as well.” 

“Oh, my father will agree,” Ina said sweetly, looking down the table at her father, who was pretending not to listen. She was immensely persuasive when she needed to be. 

Eddis smiled. She too knew that Ina’s father would not bring himself to turn down the queen’s invitation to his daughter, Ina suspected. 

Eddis said, “I will look forward to it.” 

“I do not know how to shoot a crossbow though.” _That_ she had not been able to sneak in to her lessons. 

Helen smiled again. “There is plenty to do on the hunts that does not involve shooting, but nevertheless I am the worst person to teach you how to use a crossbow,” she said, laughing. “Though if you ask Selene nicely, she is an excellent teacher.” 

Ina looked at the queen’s attendant, standing behind Eddis. The woman, younger than Ina’s own mother but older than the queen, smiled conspiratorially at the princess and winked. Ina did not fail to notice, however, that her uncle, sitting next to his wife, glowered at his food. 

*

That evening, Eddis entered the king of Sounis’s apartments through their shared, private passageway. “Xanthe said you asked to see me.” 

The king looked up at her from his armchair. “You have invited Ina to come hunting.” 

“I have.” She waited for what else he was going to say. 

“Why?” 

“Because she wanted to learn to hunt.” From just the innocuous question, Helen knew Kyrillios was in a foul mood. 

“The women in my family do not usually hunt.” 

Eddis raised her eyebrows. “So you object to me coming out on hunts?” 

“Of course not,” snapped the king. He had invited her enthusiastically. “Don’t be ridiculous.” 

She narrowed her eyes at him. “You object to me spending time with your niece?” 

“No, of course I don’t,” Sounis said, flustered. Without meeting her eye, he said, “It will be good for Ina to learn.” 

“Then I do not understand why you called me here.” 

He stood and poured himself watered wine into an ornate stemmed goblet from the matching jug on his dressing table, made of glass in the style the last Invaders had been famous for and ornately painted with the lions of Sounis. He did not offer her any wine. With his back still turned to her, he said, “You spend much of your time with my brother’s family.” 

It was true. She was fond of Carinna and the girls, and glad to have friends for all the time she now had to spend in Sounis. But Helen suspected the king’s ire had nothing to do with the women of the family. She crossed her arms. “This is about Sophos.” It wasn’t a question. 

“You tried to marry him,” he said tersely. 

“To stop a war, Kyrillios. A war _you_ were threatening me with.”

He turned now, his voice dripping in accusation when he said, “That was not the only letter you exchanged with him.” 

“We are friends, Kyrillios.” She had known, when Sophos showed up, that his uncle would bristle in earnest eventually. She had been careful to exchange nothing more than pleasantries with Sophos since his return — until this week, at least. But Kyrillios had been transparent in his jealousy since the moment his nephew returned to court, never missing an opportunity to put down Sophos, regardless of whether his nephew was in the room. On more than one occasion, Helen had been sure Kyrillios’s unprompted, public affection had merely been to gloat in front of Sophos. It had only been a matter of time before the jealousy bubbled to the surface. “Even you, as miserable as you are, have friends. I know you understand the concept.” 

“And why should I believe you?” 

But Eddis was done. “I already married you, Kyrillios. What more, exactly, do you want from me?” Her husband did not respond, only glowered at his cup. Helen pulled at her hair till her scalp hurt. “You stand here and try to deprive me of what little companionship I have in this country because you are a jealous whelp, and then wonder why I refused your proposals for so many years.” 

“And so you regret marrying me now,” the king said harshly, looking up at her now. 

The queen did not take the bait. She tipped her head back, nearing the end of her rope. “If you continue on like this, when you are gone you are going to leave no one to regret your end.” 

The king, who had been so obviously looking for a fight, swelled with rage. “Is that a threat?” 

Eddis’s eyes, when she met his, were cold as ice. “If I had wanted you dead, Kyrillios, you would have been dead long ago. Remember that, and be grateful that I do not rule as you or Attolia do.” 

She turned on her heel away from the gaping king and strode through the door that connected their apartments, closing it behind her without a sound. 

*

The weather was perfect the day the hunting party rode out to the campsite. Ina had indeed persuaded her father to allow her to join, and she rode alongside Eddis’s attendants, chatting nonstop with the younger ones as they went. 

The campsite had been waiting for their arrival, and once there, they spent the evening preparing for the next day. Servants polished knives and sharpened arrowheads and readied packs, while everyone else broke apart into groups, the Sounisians gossiping and laughing, the Eddisians pulling out their weapons to practice before the next day’s hunt. 

Before long, the Sounisians grew restless watching the highlanders, women and men alike, shooting at targets. One by one, the Sounisians declared their intention to practice, as if the idea might have been theirs, and not vague feelings of inadequacy at the thought of being outshined by the Eddisians. Ina laughed. 

She sat beside her father, one of the few who had opted to remain chatting with a friend. But she paid no attention to their conversation, transfixed as she watched the Eddisian attendants in elegant dresses throwing hatchets and shooting crossbows, until Selene came to fetch her. 

She winked at Ina. “Come along, chickadee, time to learn to shoot.” 

Ina looked to her father, who bit back a smile even as he rolled his eyes, resigned. “Go,” he said with a wave of his hand, turning back to his companion. 

“Thank you!” Ina chirped as she leapt up, hurrying off before he could change his mind. 

Wooden blocks with big, pale crosses painted on had been set up for target practice, and Ina found herself being handed an unloaded crossbow. 

Selene explained, “You won’t be shooting any game this trip but it’s a good time to learn,” and showed Ina how to hold the bow, and how to aim. 

She saw Sophos practicing on the far side of the row, and envied his aim. He had always won when they had played games throwing rocks into a pot or or knotted rope onto a post. He had learned to shoot a crossbow when he was thirteen, and she was certain that Pol had taught him to hunt. But she refused to dwell, for she was out with the hunting party now, so she turned her attention back to the crossbow in her hand and continued to practice the squeezing movement Selene had shown her. 

She upgraded to arrows soon, and she fired off practice shots with blunted arrows. She wasn’t very good, but as she started to get a feel for the weight of the weapon in her hand, she found she improved quickly. The entire thing was thrilling. She practiced for half an hour before stepping back to watch the other women take a turn with the practice board. She was looking from side to side at the groups, and so was watching when her uncle approached Helen, who had been watching him throwing knives not far from Ina’s own station. Helen, Ina realized, had not picked up a weapon. 

Her uncle murmured something Ina couldn’t hear, and the queen laughed. “Oh, gods no, you do not want me throwing a knife,” she said more loudly. 

Surreptitiously, Ina inched closer. She was morbidly curious. 

He motioned to his attendant holding his crossbow. “A bow then.” 

She hesitated, biting her lip. “Fine. But you can’t laugh,” she said. She waved away his offer of his crossbow, and motioned at her attendant Aspasia to hand hers over. Aspasia was much the same height as the queen, and the crossbow would be better weighted. The queen steadied the crossbow in front of her and pulled the trigger, sending the arrow soaring...right over the target. 

Eddis turned to her husband, his face set. “I told you I was bad,” she said. 

He shook his head. “That was not so far off. Aim lower.” 

“I was already aiming for the bottom of the board,” she said wryly. 

That made him laugh, but it was not unkind. Ina knew the difference. She continued to watch. 

“Can I show you?” he asked. 

The queen laughed. “You can try,” she said, “but I can’t imagine you’ll have better luck than any of my relatives or attendants have.” 

He motioned at her to position the bow, and as she aimed he stood behind her, soothing his hands over her shoulders. “Relax, that’s what’s making your shot take off in the wrong direction.” 

Helen rolled her shoulders. “I know, it’s always been my problem.” 

He left his hands on her shoulders and said, “Try now.” 

The queen’s aim did not improve, but she and the king spent a long while practicing together, even as dusk settled and the torches were lit. Ina looked over at them from time to time, bemused. She had thought the queen hated her uncle, but here she found them smiling and laughing. Sometimes love baffled her. 

In the morning, they rose before the sun, splitting off into groups on horseback, Ina with her family and most of the Eddisian attendants. She watched in fascination as the riders worked as a group to encircle a hog. If they could catch it, the servants would cook their trophy for dinner. But the riders in the front were not quick enough to crowd it, and the hog slipped between them and ran off. 

“ _Damn_ ,” the king yelled, lowering his crossbow. 

But even as he did, Sophos was swinging around in his seat with his crossbow aimed. In the blink of an eye, he had landed the bow between a pair of trees and hit the boar. Ina gasped and turned to look at her brother. 

Not far from Sophos on her pony, Eddis’s eyes were wide with shock. “ _Sophos?_ ” 

Ina watched as Sophos, who was still twisted in his saddle looking at the boar he’d shot, turned toward Helen. He blushed bright red. “I have very good aim.” 

She shook her head slowly. “Well, aren’t you a surprise,” she said, still smiling. Sophos bit his lip and smiled sheepishly. 

Ina turned her head. Behind them, her uncle glowered. 

**Author's Note:**

> An eternal debt of gratitude to [scrapsofdignity](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellamy/pseuds/scrapsofdignity) and [helvetica_upstart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/helvetica_upstart/) for their beta on this chapter. 
> 
> Thanks for reading! Come scream about QT with me on tumblr @ [storieswelove](storieswelove.tumblr.com) or [the Queen's Thief discord](https://discord.gg/JYJufae).


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